Clearly Carlo Crivelli is a firm admirer of Bernard Herrmann for he quotes
the swirling figures from Vertigo in both these scores and the Scene
d'Amour obliquely in Del Perduto Amore.

It has to be said these are dark scores - many would say black - and they
do not make easy or comfortable listening. La Balia opens menacingly
with swirling, surging material; agitated string figures rush across the
sound stage. This is darkly dramatic stuff , very operatic and, indeed in
parts reminiscent of Verdi. For 'Annetta' Crivelli thins his texture so that
it becomes almost a chamber ensemble with clarinet and cello prominent. This
smaller ensemble continues through 'Le pazze' another highly disturbing cue
remote, cold, intense with the music staccato and spaced with many short
pauses. This music screeches, it is disconnected and dissonant. 'Il dolore
inespresso' continues the mood and conveys at first inexpressive grief before
harp figures gradually warm the temperature in preparation for 'Tema di Valeria'
which is warmer and more lyrical but still tinged with melancholy.

The music for Del Perduto Amore is slightly warmer and more optimistic
but not much. The opening title cue is romantic and sentimental with a harder
dissonant middle section. Crivelli obviously favours harsh dissonant music
to underscore menace this time from the Fascists, these manifest themselves
as crude brass glissandos and other 'sour' figures and are met with proud
defiance in such cues as 'La bellissima maestrina.' 'Il prete e il fascista'
contrasts an elegant Mozart-like gentility with growly, gruff low woodwind
figures. The swirling Herrmann quotations figure prominently in 'Distruzione
della scuola' and in the nine-minute suite from the film which also includes
music of passion that alludes to Herrmann's Scene d'Amour.

Strong stuff indeed, you'll need something much lighter as an antidote
immediately after listening to this disc.

Reviewer

Ian Lace

And Didier C. Deutsch says:-

It would have helped enormously had the label, Pacific Time, provided some
information about these films or, for that matter, composer Carlo Crivelli.
But the scant text included with this CD, track listing over color photo
(from what film?), doesn't reveal anything significant. Only a banner at
the top of the booklet cover indicates that La Balia was an official selection
at the 52nd Cannes Film Festival in 1999.

Directed by Marco Bellocchio, La Balia (The Nanny), a period drama, apparently
made an impressive debut at the Festival, for its powerful austerity and
solid technical assets. Based on a novel by Luigi Pirandello, this psychological
costume drama set in the early 1900s, mingles profound topics such as mental
disabilities, motherhood and marital instability, against the broader framework
of social unrest and police repression. Typical of the director's usual approach,
the film is a clinical look at these conflicting aspects, made even more
oppressive as a result of Bellocchio's fondness for psychoanalytical comments
that frequently interfere with the deliberately slow action. The story of
a respected neuropsychiatrist, married to a much younger woman whose mental
stability begins to fray following the birth of their son, and the effect
of the arrival of a comely young country girl (the nanny of the title) has
on them when she comes to care for the baby, La Balia suggested to Crivelli
a score that has unnerving accents, probably as a reflection of the
claustrophobic drama.

With frequent calls on the low strings, and only an occasional sprinkling
of a flute to relieve the tedium, the cues sound ominous and profoundly
disturbing. No doubt that, behind the action, they served their purpose and
enhance the moods, but as an audio experience the sparse instrumentation
and relative lack of melodic material do not provide much fodder for listening
enjoyment.

The instrumentation is much more florid, and the themes much more attractive
(probably to reflect the romantic aspects of the story itself) in Del Perduto
Amore, a film directed by Michele Placido. But since there is no way to tell
how the music parallels or informs the action, the listener's only frame
of reference becomes the melodic aspects of the score, quite compelling.
Generally speaking, the moods expressed here are also somber and deliberately
slow, but the themes are attractively laid out, in a way that at times evokes
Bernard Herrmann ("Distruzione della scuola," with its five-note motif that
recalls the opening cue of Vertigo). Three long selections (including a 9:12
suite), give Crivelli (only known to this day for two minor scores, La condana
and Il principe di Humburg) a better opportunity to show his mettle, and
make a profound impression as a romanticist.

Of the two scores combined on this CD, this is probably the one that will
involve the listener most, causing him/her to return more frequently to this
set of cues. Too bad there is no way to determine how the music blends in
with the action, and what role it plays in it.